l33t
by YamiTami
Summary: Both are elite. One spells his with letters. //general goofiness, SnakeOtacon//


**Since people are still interested in my fics over here and FFN has fixed a couple (but not near all) of the issues it's been having, I'll start posting my stories here again. This is really against my better judgment and if they screw up so that dashes disappear or the ads somehow get more annoying, then I'm not coming back. It's bad enough they still don't allow tildies for no apparent reason.**

**I'm posting this in chapter one of all my stories so everyone knows where I can be found. See my profile for the link to my homepage.**

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Solid Snake wasn't just _a_ soldier, he was _the_ soldier. He walked away from things most people couldn't even dream of surviving, succeeded at missions that could only be defined as impossible. He was strong, fast, accurate... he was _elite_.

Otacon was too. He just spelled his with numbers.

Snake prided himself of being able to at least follow most trains of thought, but he was _completely_ lost when it came to half the things that came out of his hacker's mouth. The solider knew enough about electronics to get around in bases and secure buildings. Enough to use them (or break them as the case may be). Knowing how the gizmos worked wasn't a part of his job description, and certainly not on the level that Otacon knew. Sometimes it annoyed him to think that the nerd understood the physics of a gun shot or how a chaff grenade worked and yet he couldn't even begin to comprehend how a simple laptop functioned.

Push this button. Shoot out the green light. That was _all_ he needed to know. Otacon didn't seem to get that. Eventually Snake got used to feeling lost whenever the other man was speaking about code.

Hardware... that was another thing. After years of figuring out what killed electronic gadgets most effectively he had a vague understanding of what went into the devices, and somehow that made listening to Otacon even more confusing. He _almost_ knew what the nerd was talking about, but not _quite_. It didn't help that he felt the need to join in on the conversation every once in a while. Once he pointed out that the red doodad Otacon was soldering in place made things easy to short out, and the string of incomprehensive terms that follwed were enough to make Snake's head hurt. He got the jist of the message though: _I'm not an idiot_. He conceded (in his own mind, at least) that he should have known that Otacon wouldn't make such a blatant mistake. If _Snake_ knew about it then the hacker had to.

After that incident Snake kept any suggestions he had to himself and tuned out whatever Otacon was saying while he built things. He knew it helped the other man to have a sounding board, made it easier to work things out, so he inserted 'mmhmm's and nods where it seemed appropriate.

Once, he spent a whole afternoon grinning after realizing those conversations went about the same as some married couples.

Unfortunately, his inattentiveness in listening (however necessary in remaining sane), lead to an uncomfortable situation. In more ways that one.

Otacon had been rambling about some big project for over two weeks, and when he finally had all the parts he needed he retreated to his room, leaving blissful silence in his wake. It was nice for the first couple of days, but after three Snake started to get a little curious. Usually Otacon did his construction work out in the common rooms; this was the first time he'd been in his room for it. Not only that, but with a closed door.

Snake didn't realize how much reassurance he got from his hacker's constant chatter until he went without for so long. Not to mention that Otacon couldn't have that much nutrition squirreled away in there; he hadn't even come out for coffee the past few mornings. Since it was impossible for the man to go without caffeine that long it had to mean that he was living off of warm energy drinks. Considering the ramifications of such a diet on his already malnourished form (ramen is _not_ comparable to rations, no matter how much the nerd argued it), Snake decided to take action. Plus he wanted to know what the hell Otacon was doing in there. So he made some simple prego+meat+pasta and took it to his partner.

Bad idea.

He knocked and heard a vague assent from within which Otacon must have uttered without thinking; there was no way he'd let Snake in the room while he was naked. Said soldier stood in the doorway and stared at his hacker sitting cross-legged on the carpet with a circuit board in his hands. Otacon was, of course, blushing bright red and so embarrassed he couldn't even speak.

At first.

With a speed Snake didn't know the nerd capable of, Otacon tossed the circuit board onto a waiting chunk of egg-crate foam, grabbed some random manual lying next to him, and covered himself before yelling, "_GET OUT!"_ Loud enough to be heard a mile away. Snake started, turned to go, turned back to set the plate in his hand down on a magazine covered surface near the door (and got yelled at again) before retreating and slamming the door shut.

There was a long stretch of silence during which Snake struggled not to be a smartass.

"Sooooo..." he said to the door at length, "like computers that much?"

Don't be a smartass: mission _failed_.

"NO!" came the muffled reply, "Static kills delicate circuits! Clothes make static! Weren't you _listening_ all this week?"

"..."

"Damn it, Snake!"

"It's not my fault I haven't got a clue what you're saying 90% of the time."

There was another long stretch of silence in which Snake tried-- _oh to hell with it_, he thought.

"Need any help?"

".... you're just going to make fun of how out of shape I am."

"Naaaw..." Snake allowed himself a grin, "I like how you looked."

".......... don't touch anything unless I tell you to."

"_Any_thing?"

".................. just shut up and get in here."


End file.
